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User blog:Joeaikman/Wiki Chapter 5
“My father and mother used to take me out to a lake just out of town. We would go out just after dark, and paddle in the water underneath the stars. My mother used to sing for me. My father used to play the guitar and we would start a little campfire and roast marshmallows and s’mores.” Dion was laid next to Shop on the ground. He was laid on his side, looking at her, as she lay on her back, looking up at the clouds as they passed overhead. She let out a little sigh, but it was a happy one, not an exasperated one. She was enjoying herself with him more than she had thought she would. He wasn’t just the creepy guy that she had first thought. “That sounds nice. How old were you?” “That was before my mother- went away, so I was only very young. It wasn’t long after that when my father took me away to England. I left a lot of people that I liked behind, but he didn’t care, That was when I had to start making up my friends, just so that I would be able to not be driven mad by all these business associates my father introduced me to.” She rolled onto her side and smiled at him. It was a sweet smile. “That sounds awfully dull. I think I would be driven to that if my father had made me do that too. He died when I was young though. It was my mother and uncle that raised me.” “You didn’t mention your uncle before. What was he like?” “Very French.” She giggled at that. It was a cute laugh, high pitched and sweet. “He wouldn’t like the thought of me talking to you. You’re too English for his taste. He always told me that I should never trust someone from England.” “Well, technically I was born in America. I got my accent from my father and all of his friends. They sort of impacted me like that.” “I bet you really wish your accent wasn’t that adorable.” “It is a curse, trust me.” She laughed then, and he laughed back. It was contagious. He looked into her eyes. He looked at her lips. He wanted to kiss her. If she had been any other girl then he would, but he didn’t. He wanted the first time to be perfect. - “It’s not that fucking simple, Billy, and you fucking know it.” The floor was covered in chess pieces, and the chess board was cracked down the middle. Pop had just thrown it across the room, and against the corner of the wall. Billy sat opposite him, a smug smile on his face. Jorn cowered behind one of the cabinets. The board had flown past his head by a couple of inches. “You need to stop getting so emotional. It makes you weak. It leaves you open to attacks when you rush in early on. That was always your weak point.” Jorn stepped forward again and let out a groan. “Get cleaning up, Pop. Looks like we are going to have to buy another new chessboard. That is the third this month. I tell you, Billy, if you weren’t a first class hitman then you should have become a professional chess player.” Billy laughed at that, and took a drag from his cigarette. “Frank tells me the same. I’ve never been able to beat him, though. He is the only person better than me at playing the game that I know of.” “I can imagine. He scares me shitless.” Billy had scared him once too, but the three of them had spent a lot of time together recently. Eyes had them manning the computers whilst Billy watched. Jorn knew that Billy was only here to take out Drakan’s killer when they eventually found them. The door flew open then, and the three of them all turned their heads to look at it. Eyes was stood in the doorframe. “Starla has betrayed the operation. She has taken on a job at City Hall. I have sent a message to Frank asking if he wants her to be dealt with.” Pop and Jorn both looked at Billy. They both knew what Eyes meant when he said dealt with. Billy was silent, and took another drag of his cigarette. “We should go down to City Hall. We should talk to her, try and get her to see sense and return to the operation. She is valuable. I don’t think we should just have her… have her dealt with.” “That is up to Frank, Jorn. Not you. Just get on the phones and do some research on her. I want to know about her family, her lovers, her friends. If she was on the junior cheerleader team at junior school then I want to know! Get moving!” - “Banfa is missing.” Alexa was at her desk. Orion was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it was her aunt Laura that was sat opposite her. There was some family resemblance, although Laura was more glamorous than Alexa, who found her police uniform to be less than flattering to her figure, but that was the way that she liked it. “That isn’t good. Do you have any idea where he is?” “If I did then I wouldn’t be talking to you.” She snapped, and then instantly felt bad about it. “I’m sorry. This is tough news. He has basically raised me for the last eight years. You were close with him before you left town, right?” “Well, I wouldn’t say we were close… We kept it very casual.” “And then you left. I don’t think he went out with anyone else after that. Do you know where he may have gone?” “I don’t, Alexa. I don’t think he would ever willingly abandon you or his badge. He loved Wiki, and he loved serving the town.” “You think he was taken by someone?” “What case was he investigating?” “Not many. A few petty thefts, a spree of pickpocketting around the Town Hall, and the burning of the Fugi shack.” “The Fugi shack was burned?” There was a look of sadness on Laura’s face as she heard that news. Alexa hadn’t expected that. What did the Fugi shack mean to her aunt. “Do you have something to tell me about the place?” “No. The place means nothing to me.” “Auntie, why did you come back to town?” “I can’t tell you that, Alexa. My circumstances changed. That is all you need know, darling.” A young officer came over to them. He was fresh faced, with full cheeks and short, buzzcut hair. He looked excited to be on this floor, and no longer working the phones downstairs. “Hey Alexa.” “Timothy… Do you need something?” “Yeah. Mr Falcon wants to see you. Wait, do I call him Mr Falcon or Max?” She sighed. “Max will be fine. What does he want to talk to me about?” “He- He didn’t say.” She sighed again. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure that Timothy was ready for this promotion, but Max had given him Banfa’s cases for as long as Banfa was missing. “Ok, well, I guess I have to go. Timothy, could you see my aunt out of the building.” “Sure!” She left Timothy with her aunt, and hoped that she would be able to resist her usual urges. She had a tendency to be slightly promiscuous when she was introduced to new men. She found Max sat at his desk. He was a thick bodied man, but more muscle than fat. His hair was black, but it was common knowledge that he dyed it to make it that way. “Alexa. I couldn’t help but notice that you brought Laura Ashley in to question her. Do you believe that she killed Drakan?” “I brought her in to talk about Banfa-” “The Banfa case has been given to Timothy. If you think Laura can be of any use then recommend her to Timothy.” “Timothy is-” “A promising officer. Let him do his job. That is all.”8ol9llooo9o - Banfa was laid on the floor, a velvet something over his head. It might have been a bag, or some kind of hood. A hood, it must be. He could taste the metal of the zip when he stuck out his tongue. It had been zipped all the way up. There was no chance of any light getting in. All he could see was darkness. He closed his eyes. There was no difference to when they were open. There was a strange smell. Maybe it was his own sweat, maybe it was something about the place that he was, wherever that was. Even here, even here he was being some sort of detective, even here he couldn’t stop thinking about that day. “Are you awake?” That voice. It was familiar. The way that he slurred his a’s. Where did he know it from? Who was it? It sounded both far off and also as if the speaker was inside his very hood. It was a man’s voice, he could tell that much. Was he waiting for a response, or did he know that he was already awake? Was it a rhetorical question? He couldn’t tell how he was supposed to respond. “Are you awake? Tell me, are you awake?” The voice was raised. He really couldn’t tell. Should he respond? Should he pretend to be asleep until the other cops came to find him? He was certain that they had taught him how to react to this kind of situation in training camp. He couldn’t recall. Was he taking too- That was when the boot caught him in the stomach. It was steel toe capped. It was hard and cold and dug deep into him. He let out a grunt, a signal that he was alive and that he was awake. His attacker knew now, and he knew that he wouldn’t be given that long to think about his responses again. “Good. You have caused me a lot of problems today, Officer. You went to Drakan’s house. I know you were there. Why did you go? What did you find?” He had thought the voice was angry at first, but now he sensed that it was more scared. Was it worried that he had found something in Drakan’s house. Was whoever this man was talking about the Guest Book. Could he be the person that Drakan had scribbled out the name of. He knew this wasn’t Jude David, so he had to try and think who else was named in that book. Was anyone else’s name familiar. Could he match a name to a voice- The boot met his stomach again. “Tell me why you were there!” “Why- Why are you so afraid of what I might find?” The boot hit him twice that time. He think he may have been bleeding, but his hands were bound and he couldn’t tell. “I ask the questions here, not you. Why were you there?” “I’m- I’m investigating a murder- the murder of the man living in that house. Why wouldn’t I go there?” “What did you find?” “A book.” That response illicited a wail from whoever the interrogator was. The fact that the book had been found seemed to cause some sort of distress. Suddenly a hand grabbed ahold of him. The voice was in his face. He could feel the condensation of the breath on the outside of the hood. “Where is it? Where is the book? Tell me! TELL ME!” - “Hey.” “Hey.” One of the things that Hoagy had grown to realise about Carson during the last few days was that it was Task that had often kept their conversations going. Without him around and without him healthy, well, they often had these kind of encounters, where one of them would say something, and the other would take up to a minute to think of a response that had any chance of ending the talk there. Currently they were stood on a dismal corner in the middle of town. It was raining. The clouds were grey, and there was no chance of seeing any sky today. “Hey man.” Here Carson went, trying to inspire conversation. “Isn’t that Task?” That caused Hoagy’s ears to prick up. Had he seen Task? He was meant to be spending time with his new friends today. Why wouldn’t he be with Duke or Patty? They had been basically inseperable ever since that assembly a few days ago. Carson was right, however, there was Task, stood on the opposite street corner. He stepped forward to go and talk to him. Carson stopped him. “Carson, he’s stood there all by himself. We should go and help him.” “Look at his eyes, dude.” Hoagy did, and even from here he could see the purple bags underneath them. Had Task not been sleeping at all? Why would that be the case? Just then a guy that Hoagy didn’t recognise came and blocked his view of Task. He was stood there for a few seconds, before running off at an even quicker pace than he had been going at when he had arrived. Then, completely out of nowhere, Duke was stood by Task’s side, his arm around Task’s shoulders. There was a quick flash of green, and then Duke was gone again, and Task was back to being stood by himself. “Dude, we need to go.” Hoagy turned to Carson, intending to give him a speech about what it meant to be a good friend, about why they couldn’t abandon Task just because he had chosen other people to hang out with as well as them. He hadn’t expected the look of horror he saw on his friend’s face. Carson had gone as white as a sheet, and pulled Hoagy away forcefully. “What- What’s wrong? Carson, what are you doing?” “Do you still have Task’s brother’s number, Hoagy?” “Dan’s? Sure, it’s back at my house. Why?” “I think it’s time we gave him a call.” - Jose was sat at the bar of the building that his young master owned when he heard the voices of Shop and Dion as they returned home from their trip around town. They were laughing, so it seemed they had enjoyed a good time. He was surprised, therefore, when it was only Shop that came in. He sat next to Jose, pouring himself a glass of a clear liquid that he found behind the bar. They were silent for a few seconds, but Jose had always been able to tell when Shop wanted to talk. “Master.” “She is so amazing, Jose.” The words almost tumbled out of Shop’s mouth. There was a beaming smile on his face. He was very happy. He was happy to be back where he thought home was, to have found himself a friend only a few days after returning. “She is pretty and clever and pretty and she likes animals and… and…” “And what, sir?” Jose smiled as he took a sip from his own drink. “Do you remember when I had no friends apart from… erm… er… what was her name, Jose?” Jose spluttered at that. He had thought Shop had forgotten about her a long time ago. “Your imaginary friend, sir? I don’t remember the name. That was many years ago, back when your father was alive.” “I know that, because it was he that made me get rid of her. He said that it wasn’t right for me to have an imaginary friend at that age. I was too old he said. I think that I have been trying to replace her ever since, with all the women. It was true that ever since coming of age Shop had enjoyed the company of less than reputable women, and they had enjoyed his company too, although that may have come from the money he gave them for that time. “You think this girl might be the one who puts an end to that, sir?” “Who knows, Jose? Lets just see how it goes. I have high hopes though. I think I am wanted upstairs. I will need the car this evening. We are going to the lake.” “It will be ready for you, sir.” Shop walked to the door and up the central stairs. Jose was left with his drink, worrying what might happen now that his master had turned his mind back to the events of the past. - Greg was sat on one of Jude’s sofas, his elbow resting on his knees and his face flushed and wet from tears. Jude sat opposite him, wearing a dressing gown. Greg had woken up early to come around, and Jude had been woken up early by Greg. “I can’t do it anymore, Jude. I can’t. Drakan and everything about him, I tried to talk to him, I tried because you told me to. He let me in. He smiled at me. He- He forgave me, and now he is dead. Now he is gone. Who killed him? They think it was- it was me.” Jude sighed and leaned forward, putting his hand on Greg’s shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. He knew how Greg’s mind worked. He was not new to the idea of comforting people in this town, and Greg had talked to him about Drakan before. He knew the man’s loves and passions, and knew his fears and worries. He knew him. He knew people. “Nobody thinks that you did it, Gregory. Everybody knows that you are reformed, that you aren’t the person that you once were.” “Do they? I know that you trust me, Jude, but what about the rest of the town? They don’t know me. They don’t know the man that I have become. They just remember me as the bully from high school, the guy that hit them and beat them and taunted them.” “That isn’t who you are, Greg.” “You don’t understand. You trust me too much. I- I think that I did it. I think that I killed him.” - “She went to three different schools between the ages of seven and thirteen. Her father was in the military, and she spent time in America, England, Germany, Cyprus, Turkey, Greece, France, and Denmark before she turned eighteen. I found the phone numbers of two ex-boyfriends living in America, and one ex-girlfriend living in France.” “Anything else worth reporting.” “Yes. I’m not sure what it means, but she recently shut down her Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr accounts. Seems like some sort of social media blackout.” “Weird, but nothing too out of the ordinary.” “She also recently took out two new appartments, both across town from each other, and she received a string of threatening messages on her Facebook account the day before she shut it down. I think she was being stalked, which explains the erratic behaviour, and the sudden desire to cosy up to prominent officials.” “When did the messages begin?” “About two days after Drakan was found. That would be the day before Frank assigned her to my- sorry, your operation.” “You think somebody that was in the know started threatening her, in the hopes that they would give her information when you found it out?” “That was the conclusion that I came to.” “This is some good work. You may not be as useless as I had first thought. Do we have a name for this stalker?” “We do, sir.” Jorn hesitated before he said. It was outlandish and weird. He had no clue what it meant. “Just one word. Scrav.” - When Banfa next awaoke he could see again, although there wasn’t much to look at. He was in a warehouse. The ground was dry and rocky. The walls were grimey and dirty, covered in grafitti. The ceiling was high, and the lighting was provided by five dim lights. He was tied to a chair, no longer laid on the floor, but he didn’t have the ability to move either his hands or his feet. Sat opposite him was a hooded figure. Their face was obscured from him. They had their legs crossed. “You’re awake again? Good. I think we got off to- to a bad start last time. Tell me, Officer Banfa Munk, where is the book you stole from Drakan’s house.” “I don’t have it.” “I know that. I searched your bag. Where is it? Who did you give it to?” “You have been following me?” “I have.” “Then you already know I only visited one person today.” “The priest? You gave it to the priest? Fuck. Why would you do that?” “Why does that bother you?” “He is more tied up in this than you gave yourself credit for? You knew about his visits to see Drakan, but did you also know he has made five trips to the Fugi residence in the last four months? He has been in correspondence with two relatives of people GIR killed.” “You don’t think-” “What I think is that you gave him the fucking book.” The man shot up from his seat and threw Banfa’s chair to the ground. He fell with a crash, and was winded for a few moments by the sudden impact. The hooded figure stood over him as he lay on the floor. “You have no idea what you have fucking done.” Banfa coughed. There was some blood in it. “Who are you?” - “Hey, you’re Professor Lee, right?” Teddy was hunched over his desk, marking papers and circling annotations. He was so surprised to hear Alexa’s voice that he looked up in fright. He clearly hadn’t expected to be deserved. It was a couple of hours after the end of the school day, after all. Alexa had come to this school when she was younger, but Teddy was a new teacher. They hadn’t met before. “That would be me. Can I ask who is asking?” Alexa pulled her cop’s badge from her right pocket. She hated to use it, but she needed answers of this guy. Her picture was outdated, but you could still tell it was her. This was back just after she was given her probation by Max. Banfa had said that day had been one of the proudest of his life. “Ah. Well then, Alexa Day, can I ask you what this is about? Do you want to talk to me about Task, or is this about the Fugi fire? I thought detectives Jamahl and Banfa were on that case.” “You’re Teddy Lee, the Head of Admissions between the junior branch of this school and the older students. There is a student I wanted to ask you about.” “Task?” Alexa shook her head. “Then do you have a name for me… I can’t very well give you any information without that.” “Not a name. A description.” Teddy frowned at that. The skin on his forehead creased as he did. “There isn’t much I can do on a description. Go ahead, though. Try me.” “Little girl. I’d say six or seven, maybe eight. She had long brown hair, and wore a purple coat and purple wellies.” “You aren’t giving me much to go on. There are a hundred girls that age that could be the person you are describing.” “I saw them near the site of the fire. Maybe she lived somewhere nearby to the crime scene. She was watching it like- like she was scared. I think she may have seen who set it. I think she may be our only lead.” “Well, I’m sorry, but I am afraid that I am going to have to disappoint you. I don’t think I can give you a precise name. I can give you a list of schools from around that area, if you think that would help your investigation.” “That would be great, thanks. Can you have it sent down to the prison?” Alexa walked to the door, but turned around when Teddy called her back. “Would you mind if I ask you a question, Officer Day. Where is Officer Banfa?” Alexa hesitated for a few seconds, biting her lip as she thought. “I- I don’t know.” - Dion put the solitary piece of paper on Norm’s desk. It was an account of the day that she had spent with Shop. She felt bad reporting on him like this, but Norm had insisted. He had told her that if she didn’t then she would be sacked, and she needed this job to stay in the country. She needed it to keep her apartment and keep her well fed. Shop wouldn’t provide for her yet. They barely knew each other. “Has he fucked you yet.” She turned and found Barry stood behind her. It looked as if he hadn’t expected to find her here. What would he be doing in Norm’s private office if he wasn’t looking for her? “Or, more precisely, have you let him fuck you yet?” Barry walked over to her, and she shook her head gently. In truth, she was scared of him. He had the power to ruin her life, if that was what he wanted. He was a dangerous man, and a powerful one, which wasn’t a good combination. “I told you that you should let him if he asks. Have you said no? You do know what I would do to you if I realise you are putting my election bid in jeopardy? You do know just what I can do to you?” She looked up at him as he grabbed her by the chin, and forced her eyes up to look into his. “It would be a shame if the police found out that Wach’s daughter is back in town. Drakan supposedly ordered your father’s death. That seems to be motive enough for you to be involved in his murder. I am close friends with Max Falcon. I’m sure he would be interested to hear about you…” She whimpered at that, and he moved his face even closer to hers. “You want this to be a secret just between us, Dion. Then you do whatever I say. I am the best thing for this town, and I will not have you ruin it for me. Do we agree?” She nodded. He was so close to her. She could smell his scent. “Good. Go back to Shop. Have a… nice evening.” He laughed as he left, and she shuddered. A chill fell on her, as his laugh was like someone walking on her grave. - “My client doesn’t have to answer any of your questions.” There were four people gathered in the police interrogation room. Matthew Pika was sat next to Kung Fugi on one side of the table. Kung was a mess, but Matthew was as smart as ever, dressed in a full suit, but without the tie. Opposite him was sat Jamahl, behind him stood Alexa, silently watching on. “Mr Pika, your client has come in and pleaded not guilty of the two crimes that have been levelled in his direction by the press. Are you sure you wish to do that, and then refuse to answer questions?” “That is exactly what I wish to do. My client has done nothing wrong, so I struggle to see why I should have to answer questions about crimes that you have nothing to link him to.” “He was a close friend of Brandon Servix wasn’t he? Before Mr Servix was murdered, that is.” “My client knew Mr Servix. They were close, and he attended Mr Servix’s funeral. He had no grudge with Drakan, and you have no proof, no evidence, beyond the conjecture of the press and the media.” “So why come here and plead not guilty, if he has nothing to hide?” “If he had something to hide, then wouldn’t my client be hiding? He is here to allow you to investigate him. You will just have to do that without asking him any questions. You have five hours before you have to release him. I would suggest that you don’t waste them.” - “You have to move your king, Billy, and you know that when you do the match is over. Maybe not next turn, maybe not the turn after, but this match is over. You’d even struggle to get yourself a stalemate.” Billy smiled emptily. They played a little chess game every thursday, him and Frank. It was partly so that he could test his wits against the best player he knew, and partly so Frank could rattle off a list of the people that had wronged him that week. Sometimes he would give Billy money for one of them to be ended. For one of those problems to be snuffed out with the pull of a trigger. That was all Barry was to Frank. “I know why you asked me here, Frank. What do you want me to do with this Starla girl? A quick shot to the head? Or would you rather we leave here for a few days?” “You don’t go near Starla, Billy. She stays where she is. Whatever Eyes tells you, you ignore him. When it comes to her I am giving the two of you equal control. She is safe. She is untouchable.” “Alright, alright. If Eyes asks me to off Starla then I will leave her alive. Why do you have so much of an interest in the case? Is she some sort of sleeper agent? Is she part of your plan? Is that it?” “What is between me and Starla is no business of yours, Billy. Just shut your damn mouth and do your damn job.” - “What do you mean you think you killed him? How can that be possible?” “I- I recieved a note from Drakan two days earlier. He asked me to meet up with him on the night that he- He died. It didn’t say what he wanted to talk about, or where he wanted to meet, or what we would be doing. It just said when. He wanted to see me at 11pm.” “Did you see him? How did you know where to go?” “Well, it was a wednesday, right? I usually work through to midnight then. I guess he knew that already, I don’t know how. I remember him walking into the shop, then we both got in a car. Then nothing. I- I- I don’t remember anything about that night. Next thing I know, he- he is dead. It must have been me.” “Do you have the note?” “Yeah. I brought it with me.” He passed it to Jude across the coffee table. It was written on yellowing paper in black ink. It was neat, so clearly hadn’t been written in any kind of hurry. “Is this your handrwriting, or-” “It’s his. I- I don’t know how I know that, but I do.” “Do you remember anything? No flashes of memories, nobody else that was in that car with you?” “I don’t think there was anyone else.” “There must have been.” “Why do you think that?” “You say you got in a car with him? Well, Gregory, Drakan didn’t drive.” - Banfa was slumped in a chair when he awoke next. He was no longer in the warehouse. Instead he was sat on a stage in front of a small room with rows of chairs, as if it had been set up for some sort of assembly. The lights here were brighter than they had been before. They dazzled him at first, but soon he adjusted, and realised there were three hooded men stood before him. The one stood in the centre crouched so that he was at Banfa’s level. “Do you know where you are, Officer Banfa?” That wasn’t the man that had spoken to him before. Was this his superior? Was this the man that was pulling the strings? Was this the man that had killed Drakan? Had Drakan experienced this kind of torture too? “Look around. I am sure that you will recognize the place soon enough.” He did as he was told, and had to stifle back a gasp. He did recognize this place. This place haunted his dreams and was the centre of his nightmares. This was where they had died. He was on the stage where Grav and Joe had been killed. He was in the same place that Sega and Matoro and Brandon had all been killed in. Why? Why bring him here? “I thought you would appreciate this.” There were tears in Banfa’s eyes. He tried to struggle against his bonds, but he couldn’t break them. The man speaking had risen and walked off the stage. He had his back to Banfa. “I thought you would appreciate your end occuring where your life truly began. You spent so long trying to solve these murders, Officer Munk. I told you that you should have left them alone. GIR did it. He confessed.” Had he said end? No. No. He couldn’t have. He couldn’t have meant that. “You were a good man, Banfa, but you really did never know when to stop prying. I am sorry it came down to this. I truly am.” The central figure walked out of Banfa’s sight. He closed his eyes then, tears staining his face and his clothes. He wouldn’t ever get to open them again. - There is a closeup of a face. It is Drakan. It is an old picture, maybe taken from a high school yearbook. The words beneath his name have been scrubbed out, erased, as if they were important. The picture is on a board of cork, placed directly in the middle. Coming off the picture are lines of string, connecting the old picture of Drakan to pictures of other people. One branch leads off to Frank, who is, in turn connected to others, to Jorn, to Billy, to Eyes, to Benny. Benny is crossed out. Then there was Barry, and Norm, and Starla, and Tim, and Trent. Then Jude, connected to Greg. Then Kung and Matthew, connected to each other, but also to Barry. At the top of the board, placed firmly above centre of Drakan, is Max Falcon. Branching off him are Jamahl, Alexa and Banfa. A gloved hand reaches up to the board and strokes Alexa’s face gently, before moving on to the picture of Banfa, He is smiling in the picture. They take it down carefully, not wanting to spoil it. He is replaced quickly, by a different set of hands, wearing red gloves. In his place is put a picture of Timothy, taken recently. The two glove hands reach together in front of the board, and they shook, as if agreeing some deal. Then… darkness. Category:Blog posts